


Quincunx Part Two

by pollybywater



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-05-25
Updated: 2002-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-21 02:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollybywater/pseuds/pollybywater
Summary: Thanks to a certain meddling omnipotent entity, Mulder has landed in an alternate universe in which things are very different for the people he knows.  How does he come to terms with what he learns, and how will it affect *his* reality?





	Quincunx Part Two

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Quincunx Part Two

## Quincunx Part Two

#### by Polly Bywater

Title: Quincunx Part Two  
Author: Polly Bywater  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website:   
Date Archived: 05/25/02  
Category: Drama, AU (Alternate Universe), Crossover   Star Trek: The Next Generation  
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek   Krycek/Scully       
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: Assume most Krycek eps and anything to season eight  
Permission to Archive: Oh, sure, just let me know  
Series or Sequel/Prequel: Part Two of ?  
Notes: This will make very little sense unless you've read Part One, and I have to admit, this one IS more of a crossover story. I just couldn't help it. When a Q-muse tells you he wants to be involved, I dare you to say no! Also, I have no idea at what point in canon poor Pendrell got whacked, and if I spelled the name of Scully's dang dog wrong I hope somebody will let me know.  
Warnings: Part 2 contains descriptions of M/M interactions not recommended for minors or fundamentalists  
Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 Productions own the majority of the characters I've borrowed for this story. Paramount owns ST:TNG and tries to own Q. I make no money off this, it's a true labor of love.  
Summary: Thanks to a certain meddling omnipotent entity, Mulder has landed in an alternate universe in which things are very different for the people he knows. How does he come to terms with what he learns, and how will it affect *his* reality?

* * *

Oh. 

Oh, shit. 

This was officially and indisputably, without a doubt, a VERY BAD THING. So why did it feel _so fucking good_? A simple thoughtless kiss, meant to provide comfort and solace, was suddenly shattering the foundations of Mulder's world and turning him inside out. Ruining him, because he'd never want any mouth but this one. If he was honest with himself, he never had. 

Alex's lips softened and parted under his, sharing the flavors of coffee and tears. A wet silk tongue teased and lingered; striking sparks that went straight to Mulder's cock. Somebody moaned. Him? Heaven help him, he was lost. Out in the ozone, gone with the wind, lost. 

A pair of strong hands tightened on his upper arms and shoved him back, separating his mouth from its new favorite taste, and it was definite. That disappointed moan was his, all right. 

"Fox, _no_. We can't do this. _I_ can't do this," Alex rasped, his eyes glittering wildly in his flushed pink face, that tempting mouth swollen and red. Mulder wondered in one small corner of his mind if he'd ever seen such a beautiful, soul-stealing sight, then sanity kicked over and started his conscience running. 

"God, _what_ am I _doing_? Alex, I-" Mulder couldn't say he was sorry. He'd be lying if he tried. "I don't know what came over me." That much was true, at least. 

Alex shook his head briskly, as if to clear it, then smiled. Mulder stared at him bemusedly. 

"That's the only thing I _do_ know. We- I mean, my Fox and I, always had the most incredible chemistry. The first time he kissed me I would have sworn the earth literally moved. That's why it bothered me so much to find out how much you... hate... your Alex Krycek." 

"Things happened very differently for us," Mulder admitted, finally pulling enough of himself together to stand alone. He couldn't resist the urge to touch his fingers to his mouth for a moment, though. Yes, his lips were still there. Whoa. He blinked a couple of times and started talking just to keep from grabbing Alex again. 

"Spender had already split Scully and me up when I met Krycek. He was assigned to work with me on the Augustus Cole case- Did you have that one?" 

"The soldier whose brain was chemically and surgically altered to require no sleep? Yeah, that was a Consortium experiment, you know." 

"I thought it probably was. I was already suspicious of Krycek, then an informant gave me a DOD file about the case and the file disappeared. Circumstances pointed to Krycek being responsible, and I mistrusted him even more... justifiably so, as it turned out," Mulder said with a sigh. 

"Obviously, things didn't develop identically in our universes, but given the parallels, I think I can almost guarantee your Krycek wasn't responsible for your Scully's abduction. That was Spender all the way. Did your Krycek try to keep you from reaching the top of Skyland Mountain?" 

"Yeah, actually, he did, but not to save my life, Alex. He was trying to keep me from reaching Scully in time... and it's not just that. He did kill my father. He shot him to death. I was there." 

"You saw him do it?" Alex asked, shocked. 

"Well, no, not exactly, but he was there," Mulder retorted a bit defensively. 

Alex lifted one eyebrow. 

"You do know, don't you Mulder, that your father- well, my Fox's father, rather, was heavily involved in the Consortium. He was in it from the beginning, and it's not exactly the kind of job you can retire from." 

"So you think he deserved to be murdered, is that it?" Mulder was yelling now. "God, you and Krycek have a lot in common after all!" 

"As a matter of fact, I _do_ think he deserved to be murdered! Your so-called father was an abusive two-faced bastard who was right there with Spender trying to sell this planet down the river, just like he sold your sister, and I hope he burns in Hell for what he did to _you_ , Fox! He manipulated you your whole life and practically turned you into an emotional cripple because he couldn't deal with his own guilt!" Alex yelled right back, then seemed to catch himself. He winced, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

"I'm sorry. I had no right to say that. For all I know, _your_ father was completely different. I was talking about the Bill Mulder of this universe, not yours, and I shouldn't make assumptions. Obviously, my Fox and I had this argument a time or two." Alex stomped off towards the mudroom. "I'm going outside." 

It was Mulder's turn to wince as the back door slammed shut in Alex's wake. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Scully's voice behind him. 

"I guess it's safe to come in now," she noted wryly. 

"When did you get here?" Mulder asked with some apprehension. 

"I got here in time to hear Alex's theory on why Bill Mulder should have been murdered. It's not the first time I've heard it," Scully commented, looking at Mulder closely. "Are you all right? Alex can get pretty excited about that particular subject. He hated Bill Mulder." 

"I started it," Mulder admitted sulkily, and then had to laugh at himself for sounding like a recalcitrant six-year-old. "The hell of it is, Scully, he's right. My father was everything he accused this Bill Mulder of being, and more." 

"I hope you didn't spend the whole morning fighting, Mulder," she said, setting a bakery box on the table. Mulder was abruptly reminded of what he and Alex had been doing just a few minutes earlier and he couldn't prevent a fiery blush from rising to his face. 

"Scully, Alex said you told him we talked last night. I assume you tell each other everything?" 

"We try, yes, Mulder. We both agreed that keeping secrets could be harmful, although these days it's emotional harm and not physical harm we have to worry about." 

"Alex told me what happened two years ago. I'm sorry about the baby, Scully." 

"Thank you, Mulder. That was a really painful time for all of us. Losing John and Melvin like that, after everything we'd gone through together working against the Consortium... did Alex tell you we were thinking about taking you to see Langly?" 

"Yeah, uh, there's something else, Scully." Mulder ran one hand through his hair and chewed on his lower lip. 

"You're displaying all the symptoms of that classic Mulder syndrome commonly known as 'I messed up and you need to know but I don't know how to say it'. Why don't you just spit it out?" Scully encouraged him kindly, which made Mulder feel even worse. He had to wonder if there was a Mulder in _any_ universe who deserved Scully as a friend. 

"When Alex told me... we got pretty emotional... and we started crying and holding each other, and... We, uh... well, it was me, I mean, I- I- IkissedhimScullyitwasn'thisidea." Mulder closed his eyes and ducked automatically. 

"Hmmm. How did that make you feel, Mulder?" Scully asked, her tone even more gentle. 

"Like it was the end of all life as I knew it," he whispered honestly, opening one eye to peer at her. "I thought you'd be mad." 

"You thought I'd be jealous. I expected it would happen sooner or later," Scully said, and gave him what could only be described as an evil grin. "I was actually disappointed you and Alex weren't in bed when I got home. I wanted to watch." 

"Dana Scully!" Mulder was flabbergasted. "I really _am_ in an alternate universe, apparently." 

"Don't tell me your Scully is some kind of a prude. I really _will_ be disappointed," she grinned at him, opening the bakery box and shoving it in his direction. Mulder waved it off. His stomach was in knots. 

"My Scully is a good Catholic girl," Mulder pronounced earnestly to this Scully's indelicate snort. 

"If she's a red-blooded human female she should be intrigued by the idea of you and Alex in bed together. You're beautiful, Mulder. I always thought so, and Alex... Alex is sex on two legs. How could I be upset with you for being attracted to him?" 

"Well, yeah, but-" 

She looked at him a little more seriously then, her hand reaching out to touch his. 

"Listen, Mulder, I'm not trying to push you into something you're not comfortable with. I'm just saying I won't have a problem with it _if_ it happens. I have no insecurities where Alex is concerned, and in a lot of ways, I think it might be something he needs. He never had the chance to tell our Mulder goodbye, and the last words they said to each other were spoken in anger. I'd like him to have a better memory to put there. I know it wouldn't be the same. _Alex_ knows. We're not confused about which Mulder you are, but I believe it would still give Alex some closure." 

Mulder stared at Scully, a wondering smile playing about his mouth. 

"You're an amazing person in two universes, Scully. I always knew, as a friend, you'd do anything in your power for me. I should have known you'd be that kind of wife. Your Alex is a lucky man." 

"Yes, he is," she said complacently and started giggling as she stood up. "I'd better go let him know I'm back." 

Mulder watched her walk away and allowed himself to notice, as he very seldom did, how appealing she was in her close-fitting blue jeans and button-front navy shirt, that bright hair swinging in a ponytail. Alex might be sex on two legs, but he was certainly well matched by Scully's powerful, understated sensuality. Curiosity drove him to imagine how it would feel to be sandwiched between the two of them in bed, and the resultant surge of arousal had him groaning and reaching into his own jeans for a little adjustment. 

He had to wonder, though, if Alex would be as eager as Scully apparently thought. One thing was true in any universe. Alex Krycek was a hard man to figure out. 

+++++++++++++ 

Mulder followed Alex and Scully into their house, fighting a yawn as they were greeted at the door by the excited dogs. There was no reason for him to feel so tired, but he did. It had been a difficult afternoon. 

Scully had dragged a reluctant Alex back inside, and he'd apologized again for shouting at Mulder before disappearing to take a shower. He didn't give Mulder an opportunity to say anything. Scully had rolled her eyes and followed him, leaving Mulder alone with his imagination for the better part of an hour. 

Once Scully and Alex emerged, freshly dressed, pink faced and relaxed, they'd all piled into the Crown Vic and gone over to see Langly, which had been an exercise in emotional tension that surprised Mulder with its intensity. The Langly of this universe was so different from Mulder's own, with his hair cut short and almost no trace of that laid back 'hey, dude' personality to which Mulder was accustomed. Mulder understood on some instinctive level that _this_ Langly had been forced to grow up following the deaths of Byers and Frohicke and the loss of his leg. 

Langly had greeted him with interest, but also with a painfully wary suspicion that never really eased even after Scully and Alex had assured him Mulder was no clone. Mulder hadn't pushed it. Alex had explained what they wanted Langly to investigate- changes in the earth's electromagnetic fields, unexplained atmospheric phenomena, the latest 'net theories on parallel realities and interdimensional travel. Whatever. Langly was just as quick as ever to catch on, and had come up with a couple of ideas of his own worth investigating, but Mulder had the notion he'd be looking for an answer just to see Mulder gone. 

Before they'd left, Alex and Scully both hugged Langly, and Mulder could hear them tell the grim-faced hacker not to worry. It was a quiet ride back to Seven Corners. Mulder fought with himself the entire way, feeling like he should apologize but not sure what he could say that wouldn't make everybody feel even worse. 

Once inside, he threw himself onto the sofa and looked up at Alex. 

"Do you think I could have some of that Stoli you've got stuck in the freezer?" 

Alex looked at him and quirked his lips, distracted from petting his Rottweiller. 

"Yeah, that sounds like the best idea I've heard all day. Dana?" 

"Not me. Sit down, Alex, I'll get it. I'm going to fix myself a cup of tea and start dinner." Alex collapsed beside Mulder while Scully went into the kitchen and brought out two glasses and the bottle, setting it all on the coffee table with a weary grin. "Have one on me, boys," she ordered before leaving them alone. The dogs were quick on her heels, undoubtedly tipped off by the word 'dinner'. 

"That was... difficult," Mulder commented. Alex nodded, pouring them each a healthy quantity of the icy liquor and handing Mulder his glass. 

"Vashe zdorovie," Alex said, belting his back in one swallow. 

"Here's mud in your eye," Mulder toasted back and duplicated Alex's action. "Damn, that's good." 

"Langly's changed a lot since-" Alex hesitated, shrugged, and poured them another drink. "It's been hard for him," he finally said, sipping from his glass this time. 

"Alex, Walter left a message on the machine. You'd better call him," Dana yelled from the kitchen. Alex sighed and reached across Mulder for the phone. Mulder held his breath, willing himself not to react to that all-too-brief contact, and didn't let it out until Alex had settled back onto his end of the sofa. He was really thrown by the degree of physical awareness he felt around the Krycek of this reality. It made him wonder if he'd had these feelings around his own Krycek all along, and just smothered them with anger, resentment, and violence. 

"Hi Missy, it's Alex. Walter called... yeah, we're fine, I promise... okay... Hi Walt, got your message... no, everything is all right... yes, of course... we went to see Langly... no, not really." Alex sighed and switched ears. "No, but thank you. We're staying in this evening... lunch tomorrow? I'll have to let you know... He did? And yet you're still worried... no, I don't blame you, Walt. You know I appreciate it... I will. You, too. Bye, now." 

Alex waved the handset of the phone toward the cradle, and Mulder took it and hung it up while Alex drained the contents of his glass and set it down. 

"Walter says Pendrell called him to let him know your DNA still looks human," he said with a snort. "Guy needs to get a life." 

"Which one, Skinner or Pendrell?" Mulder asked with a grin that Alex returned. 

"I was talking about Pendrell, actually. Walt has a life." 

"Pendrell doesn't, in my universe," Mulder told him seriously, seeing from the look in those deep green eyes that Alex understood instantly what he meant. Alex shook his head regretfully. 

"What happened to him?" 

"Found shot, nobody knew anything." The investigator's chronic lament. 

"Yeah, nobody ever does. Damn. No reason to tell our Pendrell, is there?" 

"None that I can think of. If it was Consortium related, that shouldn't be a problem here now, anyway." Mulder finished his vodka and declined a third, feeling a definite buzz from what he'd already imbibed. "You and Walter Skinner, brothers-in-law. That's pretty freaky, Alex. When did he and Melissa Scully get married?" 

"They met through Dana about three years ago and eloped two weeks after that. Freaked us out too, if it's any consolation," Alex said, and giggled, utterly charming Mulder, who was visited by an irresistible urge to catch that giggle in his mouth. His expression must have betrayed him, because Alex stopped with a startled gasp. 

"F- Fox?" 

"Alex, let me, please," Mulder whispered, reaching out to take Alex's shoulders in his hands. "I have to _know_." He drew that unresisting form nearer, so warm and strong under his hands. 

"What is it that you have to know?" Alex asked in his own whisper, shivering slightly in Mulder's grip, their faces so close that Mulder could feel Alex's breath on his lips. Could smell the faint bite of vodka, overlaid by the clean aromas of shampoo, soap, aftershave, and the scent that was purely Alex. Mulder felt his head spin, and was certain it had nothing at all to do with what they'd drunk. 

"I have to know if it was supposed to be like this between us. I _have_ to," Mulder tried to explain, then sampled that sweet mouth once again. Slowly at first, running his tongue along those beautiful, tempting lips, teasing them apart. Drawing his head back just enough to tilt it in the other direction before falling once more into the kiss, sending his tongue to search the other man's mouth, finding that impossible, world-shaking response flaring wildly between them and swelling his cock. 

Mulder's hands tightened involuntarily, yanking Alex hard against him and moaning when Alex's arms slid around him to return the embrace. Eventually, lack of oxygen forced their lips to part, and Mulder leaned his forehead against Alex's, panting. 

"I can't be _your_ Alex, and you can't be _my_ Fox, Mulder. You can't lose sight of that, not ever," Alex murmured, a sadness in his tone that cut right through Mulder's dazzled arousal. 

"I didn't even know I wanted _my_ Alex like this until I met you, and I'm not confused about who's who." Mulder kissed him again, a chaste and tender salute. "Thank you, Alex." 

Alex pulled away and looked at him seriously. 

"If it's helped you clarify some things, I'm glad, but it can't happen again, Mulder. I know Dana said she'd understand, but I can't handle this." He took a deep breath and visibly braced himself before he went on talking. 

"There's a part of me that really wants to pretend you're my Fox, and I can't let that part of me out. Dana doesn't realize how damned angry I still am with Fox for dying. He threw his life away like it meant nothing to him _or_ me, and I haven't forgotten that, even though I've tried to forgive it. I'm afraid if I took you to bed I'd end up hurting you. I don't want to risk it." 

"You really call it like you see it, don't you," Mulder said, sincerely impressed with the degree of self-awareness the younger man displayed so freely. It was one of the many ways in which the Alex of this universe seemed such a polar opposite to Mulder's. "I can't imagine Krycek being that blunt." 

"When you're trapped in your own head by an oilien, you learn real quick how pointless it is to try to hide from yourself, Mulder." 

"That happened to my Alex too, you know," Mulder supplied softly, thinking that phrase was becoming very easy to use. _My Alex_. 

"Then your Alex may not reveal what he feels to _you_ , but I bet he doesn't lie to _himself_." 

"I've never given him any reason to be honest with me about his feelings, if he even _has_ any for me," Mulder finally admitted to himself as much as to Alex, staring at the floor as he realized he'd been lying to himself for years. Alex reached out and touched his chin, tilting his head back up until their eyes met. 

"I know he does. He wouldn't be able to help himself," Alex promised, giving him a smile of such incredible sweetness Mulder couldn't help but return it. "I'm going to get the dogs out of Dana's way. Why don't you go talk to her. She's the best listener I know." 

"You're not too shabby yourself, Krycek," Mulder informed him, still smiling as they got up and went into the other room. Alex gave Mulder a quick grin, paused just long enough to plant a possessive kiss on his wife, and whistled the dogs out back with him. Mulder slumped into the chair he was beginning to think of as his and watched Scully chop onions. 

"Are you all right, Mulder?" 

"Yeah, I'm good, Scully. I just got shot down like the Iraqi air force, but I'm okay. Your husband's got a lot of style. He made it almost painless," Mulder said, a ghost of his earlier smile still playing about his lips. 

Scully cast a sympathetic glance his way, onion tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"I'm sorry. I feel kind of responsible." 

"Don't. Alex explained why he feels the way he does, and I understand his reasons. He actually helped me get some things straight in my head." Mulder sniffed. "What are you cooking, Scully?" 

"Meatloaf. After seeing Langly I wanted comfort food. That was rough for all of us. I don't think I realized how much he's changed until I looked at him through your eyes and remembered what he used to be like." She poured the onions into a bowl with the ground beef and added bread crumbs and eggs before pulling a pair of latex gloves out of a box in the drawer. She slipped those on with the ease of long practice and started kneading the mixture vigorously. 

"Meatloaf works for more than one reason, Mulder." 

"Yeah. You have any more gloves?" He asked wryly and she laughed, indicating with an elbow where he could find some and then letting him take over. 

++++++++++++ 

The meatloaf was in the oven, advertising a mouthwatering aroma. Scully and Mulder were once again seated at the table, watching Alex through the kitchen window, and Mulder was wishing he had something else to distract him. 

Alex was bare to the waist, on his knees in the thick grass, grappling with his dog and laughing out loud at the animal's attempts to lick him in the face. The late-afternoon sunshine picked out deep red glints in his dark hair and illuminated a flash of white teeth. Sweat beaded in a path down his spine, drawing the eye to the long muscles in his back; darkening a patch at the top of his jeans just above the lush curve of that round ass. 

Mulder watched those strong arms flex and extend in a shove, and was struck with an unexpected surge of longing. Alex _was_ gorgeous, a work of art made flesh... but Mulder's eyes suddenly ached to see another body, one that was flawed and asymmetrical and no less precious. No less perfect. Why had it taken him losing everything in his life to find out what- _who_ -he really needed to keep close? 

"I've been a God damned fool, Scully. I never once asked Alex _why_. I never stopped cursing and hitting him long enough to let him explain _anything_. I made _him_ the target of all the anger I felt towards my father. I blamed him for the Consortium, for Samantha. I hated him for making me face the fact that the aliens weren't warm and fuzzy E.T.'s out to help humanity, and I hated him for making me want him despite all that. I should have been loving him all along. I ruined his life and mine too." 

"Where is this coming from, Mulder?" Scully asked curiously, her voice soft and low. 

"Look at his arms. I dragged Alex, _my_ Alex-" and he _was_ mine, if I'd only understood it then "-to Tunguska, and you're right, I _was_ immunized against the black oil while I was there. Alex's doing, and done with his usual manipulative subversive style, but even after that I didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. It's a long story, but he ended up losing his left arm there. It was amputated above the elbow under horrible circumstances, and I-" 

Mulder rubbed his eyes and willed the burning to stop, only a little startled when Scully's tender hand brushed over his hair. 

"I never told him how sorry I was that that happened to him. I don't think I even knew I _was_ sorry until I saw your Alex. I know I didn't realize- No, that's not right. I didn't _want_ to realize how I feel about him. Your Alex thinks I hate my Alex Krycek. The real tragedy is, my Alex thinks I hate him, too." 

"How _do_ you feel about him, Mulder?" 

Before Mulder could answer, there appeared a brilliant flash of white light that dissipated to leave a strange man standing in the kitchen. Handsome, dark haired and dark eyed, he inspected them with an annoying air of superiority, arms crossed across his chest as he smirked at their astonishment. 

"Ah, yes. What is that quaint phrase? That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, Fox Mulder. How do you feel now about the Alex Krycek of your universe?" 

+++++++++++ 

Out in the yard the dogs went nuts; Queegqueeg's high-pitched yapping blending in with the Rottie's deep-throated growl. Before either Mulder or Scully could say anything, the Alex Krycek of _this_ universe burst through the back door, gun in hand and the dogs right behind him. Mulder supposed rather irrelevantly that he must have been wearing an ankle holster, then the strange man raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and everybody froze. Literally. 

"Hmm, quadruped mammals. I believe they're called 'dogs', correct? Noisy little things, aren't they? I must say I prefer Jean-Luc's fish." 

Mulder stared helplessly as the man walked over to Alex's motionless form, caught there in like a fly stuck in amber, gun hand extended and braced to fire, lips curled back in a familiar feral snarl. The man walked around him like a museum patron inspecting a work of sculpture, reaching out to trace the muscle definition of Alex's left arm. 

"Verrrry nice. I think I'll have to give your model back his appendage, Mister Mulder," the man drawled, and if Alex's eyes could have shot flames, Mulder was convinced they would have. 

"Oh, come now, I have no intention of injuring any of you! Why, I went to a great deal of trouble to bring Mister Mulder here to meet you!" 

The man heaved a rather dramatic sigh, his full lips twisting petulantly. He snapped his fingers again and Alex's gun disappeared, along with the dogs. 

"I merely put them back outside and temporarily disabled that tiresome noise. Don't worry, they haven't been harmed." 

A second flash of bright light cleared to reveal the man casually seated on the countertop. Alex was now sitting at the table with Scully and Mulder. None of them were yet able to move. 

"I am Q. I'm here to help you, Mister Mulder," the man announced with great arrogance, buffing his fingernails on his shirt. He was wearing some kind of odd red and black uniform, with gold braid scattered about prominently. 

"You're an alien!" Mulder accused, a bit surprised to find he could now speak. 

"Don't automatically assume that makes me a bad... entity. I assure you, I can be quite good," Q leered companionably, and Mulder's lips twitched against a sudden urge to grin. 

"How lovely, you have a sense of humor!" Q clapped his hand together, seeming genuinely delighted. "That will be a rare quality indeed by the twenty-fourth century, dear boy." 

"Is that where you're from?" Mulder asked rather doubtfully after a quick glance at Scully and Krycek, who apparently remained incapable of speech, although both pairs of bright eyes were speaking volumes. 

"I'm Q," the alien said grandly, as if that should be answer enough, and Mulder decided to let it pass. 

"Now, you'll be interested to know... at least, you _should_ be... that I've made something of a study of alternate realities as they apply to twentieth century Earth. There are certain constants in each universe, and you people are three of them. In fact, this particular human," Q pointed at Alex, "is a focal point in all the realities." 

Alex rolled his eyes and Q snickered. 

"Oh, it's true. That's why we're all here. You, Mister Mulder, needed a reality check!" 

Q laughed uproariously, apparently finding himself very amusing, and this time Mulder couldn't restrain a grin. 

"I selected this particular universe for your visit because they've already done what they were supposed to do here in order to maintain the correct timeline. The Consortium has been defeated, the Colonists have been expelled, and this Earth will still be where it's supposed to be in three hundred and fifty years. I salute you both," Q sketched a bow at Scully and Alex that lost some of its impact given his sitting position. He then shook his head at Mulder. 

"Your universe, on the other hand... tsk tsk tsk. Since I spend the vast, and I _do_ mean _vast_ majority of my time in your universe, I have taken it upon myself to remedy the current situation. Honestly, a Q's work is never done." 

"What exactly is it that you do?" Mulder ventured to ask. 

"Whatever I want to, of course! Now, shall we get down to business, Mister Mulder? You were in the process of explaining that you've had an epiphany of sorts regarding your feelings for the Alex Krycek of your universe. I must say I'm deeply gratified, since that's precisely what I intended to bring about by exposing you to this one. So do tell. How do you feel about your Alexei now, dear boy?" 

"I wish you'd stop calling me that," Mulder grumbled, stalling for time. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world to say out loud, especially to a weird alien and two people who were duplicates of his best friend and the man in question. 

"I can always call you Fox," Q pointed out. "You don't seem to mind it when the beauteous Alex calls you that." 

Alex flushed an alarming shade of red, and Mulder thought it was probably a very good thing that he was immobilized. 

"I've always hated my name, but when Alex says it... it just sounds different," Mulder informed Q steadily, relieved when Alex seemed to calm down some. 

"Hmm. Very articulate. So good to know an Oxford education counts for something. Very well, Agent Mulder. I'm waiting, and there are those who could readily testify, Q waits for no man." 

"If you know so much about me, why don't _you_ know how I feel?" Mulder asked, irritated now. 

"That's actually an excellent question. It's been my experience that humans don't always recognize how they feel until they have to say it. Hmm, perhaps you'll understand an analogy. It's much like what you would call primitive magic. If you know the true name of a thing, you have power over it," Q remarked, flashing over to sit at the table next to Mulder and staring at him intently. Mulder returned that keen scrutiny with as much grace as he could muster, refusing to be intimidated by the alien's liquid dark gaze. He had another question. 

"Can I ask you one thing?" 

"You can ask," the alien said with a shrug. 

"Why does it _matter_?" 

"Asked and answered, my dear Fox," Q began, undeterred when Mulder groaned. "Weren't you paying attention? You humans! I suppose you need a visual aid. Let's see, you don't use viewscreens... what is that archaic device... ah, yes. Television!" 

Another snap of the fingers, another brilliant flash of white light, and Mulder found himself sitting on the couch in the living room, Scully on his left and Alex on his right. Q appropriated an easy chair, and pointed at the television across from them. 

"Watch and _do_ try to learn." 

The screen cleared to show the interior of Mulder's D.C. apartment. Alex Krycek was sitting there, slumped into the black leather sofa, with an almost empty bottle of Stoli in his one hand and a gun in his lap. The left sleeve of his black sweatshirt was pinned up, no prosthetic in sight, and Mulder bit back an exclamation at the man's appearance. He was gray with fatigue, had huge dark circles under his eyes, and there was grief screaming out of that dull green gaze. 

A noise at the door made Krycek look up, and his face froze into its usual expressionless mask. He stuck the vodka bottle between his legs and picked up the gun, but didn't raise it to fire. He merely held it in a loose grip, hand resting on his thigh. 

Mulder heard the Scully beside him moan when the door opened and _his_ Scully walked in, accompanied by _his_ Walter Skinner. He remembered the scene this Scully had described when she and Skinner had found their Alex Krycek threatening suicide. He looked at Q impatiently. 

"Do they have to see this?" 

"I believe they'll find it very instructive. Don't worry about them, dear Fox. Despite their reactions to you yesterday, this Scully and Krycek are the most emotionally stable ones in _any_ reality. That's why I chose them. The ones you have to worry about are there." Q motioned at the t.v. 

Skinner and Scully had caught sight of Krycek, and were approaching him with their guns drawn. 

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Krycek? What the hell are you doing here?" Skinner demanded harshly. He didn't look too good either, and neither did Scully. They both seemed tired and unhappy, and certainly in no mood to deal with Alex Krycek. 

"Outa my mind. S'as good a ways any to desh- des- say it," Krycek proclaimed, and Mulder realized with astonishment that the man was totally and completely plastered. Wasted. Bombed. Mulder shook his head. He'd never imagined that Krycek would let himself get so far out of control, let alone so vulnerable. 

"M'havin' a wake, Walt! Lass toast to Fox Mulder, an the late, great, planet earth!" 

"What are you talking about, Krycek?" Scully asked wearily, and Krycek looked at her sadly, his face crumbling with a raw pain that echoed in hers. 

"S'all over, Scully. Spender won. I killed him, but he still won. Mulder's gone, aliens got him. Gonna get us all. Earth's doomed. We lost." 

Scully put her pistol away and looked at Skinner, who muttered "Oh, Jesus," and started to holster his own gun. Krycek shook his head and waggled his weapon, as if to remind them he still had one. 

"No, no, Walt, doan do that! Want you to shoot me! Been tryin' to get the nerve to do it m'self, but I mis- miscal- fucked it up. Got too drunk. Doan wanna miss!" Krycek laughed, a bitter painful sound that drove a stake through Mulder's heart. "No reason to live, y'know?" 

"Yeah, I know," Skinner said heavily, shocking Mulder anew when he went ahead and put his gun away then sat down beside Krycek. "You have any more of that?" Skinner asked, indicating the vodka bottle, and Krycek blinked at him owlishly. 

"Y'gonna drink with _me_?" 

"Will there ever be a better time, Alex?" Skinner asked with unexpected kindness, and Krycek's lower lip trembled. He set his gun aside and handed Skinner the bottle of Stoli. 

"Not much time left," Krycek said and sniffed back tears. "S'nother bottle inna freezer, Scully." 

Skinner nodded at her and she walked past them, reaching down to pluck up Krycek's weapon as she went by. Krycek missed that, being occupied with watching Skinner take a long draught of the remaining vodka. The assistant director passed the bottle back to his former agent, who drained it dry, and they regarded each other with matching expressions of regret. 

"Y'gonna shoot me now, Skinner? Please?" 

"Later, Krycek, okay? Is that cigarette smoking bastard really dead?" 

"Yeah, pushed him down the stairs. Was inna wheelchair, y'know. Shoulda done it sooner. Shoulda saved Mulder." Krycek hunched over, openly weeping now, and Skinner patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. 

"I'm glad Spender's dead. That's good, Alex. You need to get some sleep now," Skinner ordered gently, guiding Krycek's head down to rest on his lap. Krycek obediently closed his eyes, looking for all the world like an ill-used child, chest still occasionally hitching with sobs. 

"Doan really wanna sleep. Bad dreams. Mulder, y'know. Miss him, Walt," he confided in a shaky whisper. 

"I know, Alex. Me, too." Skinner stroked that dark head mechanically until Krycek snuffled against him and passed out. Skinner looked up at Scully, who was standing by the kitchen door watching them. 

"Well, Sir, I've seen a lot of strange things as Mulder's partner, but this ranks up there in the top five," Scully said quietly and they shared a wry smile that did nothing to hide the sorrow they both obviously felt. "Are you going to shoot him?" She asked, only half in jest. 

"He'll probably wish I had by the time he wakes up. Did you know he was-" Skinner hesitated, and Scully nodded grimly. 

"In love with Mulder? I suspected." Scully wandered over and fed the fish, then went to Mulder's desk and rummaged through some files until she finally retrieved whatever it was she was looking for. "I'm finished here." 

"What do we do about Krycek? He just confessed to a capital crime, and all I want to do is pin a medal on him," Skinner said, scooting out from under Krycek's head and easing it onto a throw pillow. Skinner stood slowly, like it hurt him to move, then he picked up Krycek's feet and lifted them onto the sofa. "He'll be out for a while." 

"Leave him here, let him sleep it off. There's really nothing else we _can_ do. I can't arrest him for killing Spender, confession or no confession. Ordinarily, I'd recommend he be committed to a psychiatric unit as a suicide risk, but he'd be dead within a day if we tried that," Scully concluded, coming to stand beside Skinner. They stared down at Krycek and she sighed. "There's probably a contract out on him already, you know." 

"I wish-" Skinner started, then cut himself off. 

"Walter, I know you feel guilty because you couldn't save Mulder. You can't save Krycek either." 

"Damn it, Dana, I know that," Skinner replied without heat, a terrible resignation in his tone. "It's just such a fucking waste. He's as lost as Mulder is. Do you think he's right, and we're all doomed?" 

"I hope not," she said, one hand sliding down to cover her belly. "I pray that's not true." 

She grabbed a thin blanket out of a closet and covered the sleeping assassin, then she and Skinner left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind them. 

Mulder found he was shaking, his thoughts a confused whirl of emotion, thanks to the scene he'd just seen played out. Q regarded him with a smirk. 

"You now have a choice, mon cher Renard. Within ten minutes of your compassionate friends leaving him defenseless and alone, a Consortium hit squad will come to visit poor unfortunate Alexei. Your Mister Spender, a particularly vile specimen of humanity, left some very specific instructions on what to do in the event of his death... or should I say, _who_ to do? The decision is yours. Leave the pathetic rat to his fate and have him out of your hair forever. Or-" 

Q held up his hand. 

"I can bring him here. You and your new... friends... can do your best to mend his fractured psyche and give him a reason to live. Once you're done, I can ship you both back to your universe and he can finish the job you were supposed to do together. Decide." 

"I don't understand," Mulder protested. "They managed _here_ without me-" 

"Ah, but _this_ Alex Krycek had the constant, unswerving devotion of the fair Dana Scully, as well as the stalwart companionship of his Walter Skinner. What does your Alexei have? No one. Not even the memories of his Fox's love to warm his soul." The alien swept a mock tear from one eye. "C'est une tragedie, n'est-ce pas?" 

"What's the catch?" Mulder asked suspiciously, and Q bestowed a brilliant smile on him. 

"You _are_ a bright one! The 'catch' is this. When you return to your reality, you will be in the same situation from which I took you. Rather unpleasant circumstances, actually, although you'll get over it in time if your Alexei manages to pull himself together. You will have no conscious memory of this delightful little interlude, and the balance of your life will play out in whatever manner meant for it before I intervened." 

"And what about Krycek?" 

"Same thing, except presumably Alexei will have hope, which will give him the strength to go on," Q declared with a theatrical wave. 

"And what happens to me, if I decide not to bring him here?" 

"Oh, you go back either way, dear boy... and I'll have to think of another way to arrange things that won't destabilize the timeline and irritate Jean-Luc." Q heaved a great sigh. "It would be much easier for me if you would do it." 

Mulder wondered just who Jean-Luc was that this incredibly powerful alien was so concerned about not irritating him. Oh, well. It wasn't his problem. 

"I can't make this decision unilaterally. This isn't my reality," Mulder said, looking at the Alex beside him. Those malachite eyes were calm and clear, sending an unmistakable message of acceptance. He turned to Scully, and saw an identical expression written on her pale features. 

"Of course you can! Why, you're famous for making unilateral decisions without a thought as to how they affect others!" 

Mulder grimaced at hearing that unpleasant truth. He thought for a minute, watching the t.v. screen and the sleeping form of his Alex Krycek. He ignored the alien, who produced an ostentatious pocket watch from thin air and tapped it impatiently. There really wasn't any choice. He couldn't sit here and let Krycek be killed. No matter what ended up happening... no matter what had happened before. 

"All right. Please, Q. Bring him here." 

"Polite, for a human. Very well." 

A brisk snap of the fingers accompanied another brilliant flash of white light. Mulder was becoming accustomed to it by now. His vision cleared to reveal his rat, passed out on the sofa, while he and the Scully and Alex of this universe were standing on the other side of the room. 

"I thought poor dear Alexei needed the sofa more than you did," Q explained from where he stood, looking down at the unconscious man with a surprisingly compassionate frown. "So this is the result of ethanol poisoning? Careless. Of course, that's the problem, isn't it." 

Q looked up at Mulder. 

"Would you like me to replace his arm?" 

"Will he get to keep it when he goes back?" Mulder wanted to know; thinking it would be worse than unfair for Krycek to have it here and then be forced to live without it again. Q gave him an indignant glare. 

"Mon Dieu, what kind of monster do you think I am? It would rather defeat the purpose of the whole exercise for me to remove it again." 

"Then, yes, I would like him to have his arm back. Can you sober him up while you're at it?" Mulder wondered a bit sarcastically, and the alien smirked. 

"Now, now. How will he learn not to drink to such excess again if there are no consequences for his actions? I believe you can handle that part yourself, mon cher Renard." He raised his hand. 

"Wait! I want to see it," Mulder forestalled the inevitable snap. He _needed_ to see this done, and it had nothing at all to do with mere curiosity. If he ended up making nothing else right for Alex Krycek, at least he'd know that part of the damage he'd done was remedied. He didn't let himself wonder why he felt the need to make _anything_ right. That was a line of self-analysis he wasn't prepared to pursue right now. 

Q stared at him narrowly for a moment then nodded. A small wave of his hand had Krycek's shirt vanished, and Mulder bit back a gasp that was echoed by the people standing beside him. It wasn't merely the appearance of the stump of Krycek's left arm, as bad as that was, riddled with scars and the shiny evidence of old burn marks. The man's upper body was a patchwork of fading bruises and slowly healing abrasions, and Mulder felt he could have counted Krycek's ribs from his position across the room. 

"Oh, didn't you know, prior to his meeting with you last week, Alexei was in a Tunisian prison for months, courtesy of your Mister Spender. Hard to be a one armed man in a foreign prison, I should think," Q mused, shaking his head. 

"Was he-" 

Mulder couldn't bring himself to finish, feeling suddenly sick to his stomach. Especially when he remembered how calm and cool Krycek had appeared in that meeting with Skinner and Covarrubias. He'd actually been infuriated by how good Krycek looked, like nothing ever touched the ratbastard, and all that time Krycek was hiding this under his sleek dark clothes. 

"No, despite the enthusiastic attempts of his fellow prisoners. He was not raped. You won't have an simple task ahead of you with this one." Q gave the Alex of this universe a considering glance. "You may not think so given what you've lived through, but compared to Alexei you've led a charmed life. He won't trust easily, if at all. He's had to learn to be paranoid and deceitful in order to survive, and the events of his existence have served to reinforce that." 

Alex nodded, freed at last to speak. 

"Dana and I will do everything we can to help him." 

Q smiled triumphantly. 

"I knew I chose well." He snapped his long fingers, and Krycek's arm was instantly there like it had never been gone, no scar or line of demarcation to indicate where it had been amputated. The bruises and scrapes were likewise gone, leaving the pale skin unflawed. "He's perfectly healthy now, aside from still being quite intoxicated and a trifle underweight. Au revoir, mes amis!" 

The alien disappeared before Mulder could ask him how he would know when to return Krycek and him to their own universe. He stood in stunned silence with Alex and Scully, until Alex turned to Scully and took her hand. 

"Let's go check on the meatloaf, babe, then we've got to decide how we're going to handle this." 

Scully gave herself a little shake. 

"Alex, how can you be so pragmatic? The _meatloaf_? If we hadn't spent all these years in the X-Files I'd be hysterical. You do know that," she complained as he led her away. 

"Hey, that's why, moy lyubov. This isn't the strangest thing *we've* ever seen, right?" Alex soothed gently, bringing Scully's hand to his mouth and kissing her fingers. 

"Well, it's definitely in _our_ top five." 

Mulder vaguely noticed this bit of by-play and filed it away, drawn toward Krycek like iron filings to a magnet. Krycek was deeply unconscious, and Mulder found himself tracing his fingertips along the smooth length of that new left arm. He couldn't imagine what Krycek's reaction was going to be to that... in fact, he couldn't imagine how Krycek would react to any of this. He'd never been able to predict how Alex Krycek would behave at any given time, which was one of the man's most frustrating characteristics. 

Mulder certainly never would have predicted that _Alex Krycek_ would drink himself into a stupor and beg Skinner to shoot him, all because Mulder was gone. Because Krycek had feelings for him. Maybe even loved him, if his Dana Scully was right. 

"Fuck, this is insane," he said to himself, suddenly frightened by the whole damned situation. It was the Alex Krycek of this universe who reached out and steadied him. Mulder hadn't even heard him come in, and had no idea how long he'd been standing there. 

"Yeah, insane is a good word for it. It's scary to look at him and see myself... see how my life could have turned out if things had gone differently. It's going to be even scarier for him, Mulder," Alex reminded, squeezing Mulder's shoulder. "Come on, let him sleep. We need to plan strategy." 

Mulder followed Alex into the kitchen and let himself be pushed down in his chair, glad to see Scully was her usual unruffled self. She poured him a cup of coffee and laced it liberally with kahlua before setting it in front of him. Mulder wasn't surprised to see they had similar cups of their own. The dogs were curled up tight under the table, and Mulder supposed they'd been just as spooked by the whole episode. 

They'd emptied their cups before anyone spoke. 

"That alien, Q. I suppose we have to take what he said at face value, after seeing what he was capable of... so we'll set all that aside for now and concentrate on the best way to help Krycek," Mulder finally said, feeling like the words had been dragged out of him. 

Scully nodded. 

"It's going to get confusing- _more_ confusing -if we refer to him as Krycek or Alex. Q called him Alexei. I think we should too. Alex?" 

"It's what I was called as a child. It might comfort him." Alex ran his finger around the rim of his coffee mug, considering. "Mulder. I see a couple of ways to play this. Maybe Dana should be the first person Alexei sees. From what Q showed us, Alexei believes you've been abducted by aliens, and from what you've said, you and he aren't on very good terms anyway. If he wakes up and sees you it might tip him right over the edge. He'll either think he's dead or that he's been abducted too. 

"I don't think he should see me right away for the same reason. In his position, if I woke up to see myself, I'd assume the Consortium had me in a clone lab. He may remember seeing Dana, _your_ Dana, before he passed out, so seeing her might not come as such a shock. She'll have to get him over the trauma of finding out about his arm, and explain his current situation to him. Not to mention deal with what will be a deadly hangover," Alex added with a faint smile. 

"What's your alternate plan?" Mulder asked curiously. 

"We're all with Alexei when he wakes up and we let the chips fall where they may." Alex gave him a hard look. "Either way, we don't tell him we saw what happened at your place. It would- He'd be humiliated. It will push him into a place where he'll be impossible to reach." 

Briefly resentful, Mulder wondered who put Alex in charge, then he caught himself with an impatient grimace. Alex's house, Alex's reality, and who better than Alex to understand... Alex? 

He rubbed his hands over his hair and tried to think, which was an almost impossible task given the events of the last two days. The sheer magnitude of what he'd agreed to do was starting to sink in. How was he supposed to make sure Krycek was sane, when he wasn't even sure that _he_ was? 

"Mulder, don't panic," Scully ordered calmly, apparently reading him very well. "Would you say that ordinarily Alexei is a strong individual?" 

"He's always been the ultimate survivor, Scully. I never thought he'd be suicidal... but to be honest with you, I don't think I ever gave him much credit for feeling normal human emotions." 

"Well, now you know better," she concluded. 

"Yeah, told ya so, Mulder," Alex teased with a smile, reminding Mulder of the conversation they'd had before the alien appeared. Mulder was surprised to find himself responding to that grin, undeniably comforted by this nonchalant acceptance. It helped clear his mind. 

"Alex, Scully and I should both be there. He's used to seeing me with her, and I don't think it's safe for Scully to be alone with him. He's not you. You said so yourself." 

Alex's brows drew down. 

"You think he'd hurt her?" 

"If he thought she was between him and the front door, yeah. Which reminds me, we'd better check him for weapons. He usually carries more than one gun." 

"We can't let him get out on the street. He'll be in danger," Scully said, echoing Alex's worried frown. 

"He'll _be_ a danger," Mulder commented sourly, out of habit more than anything else. 

Alex was pinching the bridge of his nose when the Rottweiller got up and growled. 

"Oh, shit." 

Certain to his bones that he never should have assumed his rat was down for the count, Mulder turned around slowly, not at all surprised to see a markedly pale and wobbling Alex Krycek standing at the kitchen door, gaping at him in drunken astonishment. 

"M- Mulder?" 

Wide green eyes rolled up behind fatigue-bruised eyelids and Mulder couldn't move quickly enough to keep Krycek from collapsing onto the floor with a loud thump. He crouched over the once again insensible form and looked up at his startled hosts with a smirk. 

"That went well." 

+++++++++++ 

It had been his bright idea to restrain Krycek for his own protection, Mulder reminded himself irritably, cursing as he tried to find a comfortable position. He didn't see how he'd ever be able to go to sleep. After Alex's flat refusal of Mulder's suggestion that they cuff Krycek to the sofa, they'd managed to get their boneless charge scraped up off the floor and into the guest room where they'd put him in bed. 

Now Krycek was tucked under the covers, stripped of everything but a pair of boxers and the handcuffs that were currently connecting his left wrist to Mulder's right... and Mulder was in hell, unwillingly basking in the body heat that radiated off Krycek, fighting to ignore the fact that he was as aroused as he'd ever been in his life, just from Krycek's proximity. Had some self-protective part of his mind always known what he'd feel if he ever stopped hating Alex Krycek long enough to expose what was underneath? 

Mulder stared up at the ceiling, which was visible in the light coming through the slightly ajar bathroom door. Alex again, who'd insisted that Krycek was probably as uncomfortable as he now was in complete darkness, thanks to the silo incident. 

Unable to resist the lure of that smooth new skin, Mulder twined the fingers of their cuffed hands together. Exercising exquisite care, he bent their elbows and tucked their joined hands under his pillow, rubbing his thumb over the baby soft flesh at the ball of Krycek's thumb. Even this simple caress made the muscles of his abdomen clench. Something about having the freedom to touch Alex Krycek without his knowledge was driving Mulder crazy. It felt too right, in a way that using his fists never had. Too good. Too... necessary. 

His agony was intensified when Krycek mumbled something and rolled towards him, right arm thrown possessively across his chest and right leg trapping his thighs. Krycek pushed his nose into the skin of Mulder's neck, then snuffled, and Mulder couldn't prevent a groan. The sound and sensation went straight to his straining cock and made it twitch. 

"Oh, God." 

Mulder twisted his head around to see Krycek's eyes moving behind his closed eyelids, and wondered what was in the man's dreams. Part of his question was answered when he became aware of a hard pressure lying hot against his hip, branding him even through two layers of cloth. Damn Krycek anyway, anybody else who'd had that much to drink would be completely incapable of getting an erection. 

He muffled another groan when Krycek arched against him, ever so slightly, and his misery was complete when he heard a name near his ear. _His_ name, _Fox_ ; rendered in a breathy sibilant whisper that shot any good intentions he'd ever had straight down the tubes. 

Hell, he was only human. 

Mulder used his left hand to move Krycek's right, stroking it slowly across his bare chest, over one nipple and down his quivering abdomen, eventually sliding it underneath the waistband of his sweats. Thankfully, his dreaming bedmate needed no further direction. Strong fingers closed involuntarily around his needy length, and Mulder lifted his hips, rocking into that sweet grip. 

Krycek murmured something in some language he assumed was Russian, the soft guttural noises sliding into his head and along his spine until he felt his balls draw up in reaction, ready to shoot. Christ, he was so fucking close, unbelievably close, from no more than this! 

He turned his head again and licked at those pink, sleep-slackened lips, at this point not caring whether he woke Krycek or not. Krycek moaned his name once more, fingers tightening, and Mulder was lost. Pleasure crashed through him in unstoppable waves, and he whimpered his release into that beautiful mouth, trembling as the force of his climax ebbed. 

"Alex. Alex," Mulder whispered helplessly, and Krycek's body went rigid, as if all he'd needed to push him over, even subconsciously, was hearing his name from Mulder's lips. Mulder pushed his hip against Krycek's erection and was rewarded with a hard shudder, breath gasped out over his neck in a low sigh. 

Mulder waited for a moment, but those green eyes never opened, and the younger man's body was soon relaxed and motionless. Mulder had to grin, feeling the additional warmth of spreading dampness on his skin from two locations. Weighing the appeal of remaining right here wrapped up in a warm embrace versus the considerable inconvenience of getting out of bed, he shrugged off any notion of clean up. Shower tomorrow. He was tired now. 

Mulder laid a goodnight kiss on his dream lover and drifted off to sleep, vaguely wondering just how angry Alex was likely to be when he found out he'd slept through their first time. 

++++++++++++ 

Morning. 

Mulder awakened to find he was on his right side, curled into the warm body beside him. Alex was flat on his back with his right arm over his eyes, making a piteous moaning sound. Must be what woke him, Mulder realized, fighting back the urge to laugh. He was sure that inflicting that much noise right now would be inhumane. 

"Oooh, fucking hell." 

"It's not _that_ bad," Mulder said in as gentle a tone as he could manage, and waited. 

Alex froze for a moment, then moved his arm enough to squint one eye in Mulder's direction, plainly needing the evidence of his vision to support that of his ears. 

"God. I thought you were a hallucination." 

Based on that aggravated tone and the glare in that one bloodshot eye, Mulder would have believed Alex _wished_ he was just a hallucination, if he hadn't witnessed the man's grief yesterday. He had to grin, which resulted in Alex's expression growing even stonier. 

"How did you get here? I thought you were off with the little gray men," Alex asked next, his voice so casual and uncaring it was effort worthy of an Academy award. Mulder reached out to touch his face and Alex flinched- oh, very slightly and quickly controlled, but Mulder hated himself for it all the same. He pulled his hand back. 

"Alex," he said, then started over. "Alexei." Better get used to saying it now. "I guess you could say we've both been abducted by an alien. What do you know about alternate realities?" 

Alex completely lifted his arm, looked around the room, inspected Mulder impassively with a blank stare, then covered his eyes again. 

"Well, that would explain why you haven't hit me yet. Nice to know there's a Mulder somewhere that doesn't hate me." 

"Oh, Christ," Mulder muttered, running his hand through his hair. This wasn't going like he'd expected, but then again, what the hell _had_ he expected? Fucking Krycek. Anybody else would just be telling him he was insane and demanding a rational explanation... God knows that's how Scully would have reacted. Krycek was as fucking nuts as _he_ was. 

They were made for each other. 

"Listen, Alexei-" 

"Why are you calling me that?" 

"It's your name, isn't it?" Mulder said shortly. "Besides, there's another Alex Krycek in this reality." 

"Poor bastard." 

For the life of him, Mulder couldn't tell what _this_ Alex Krycek was really thinking. He had to get that arm off that face. Maybe if he could see into those green eyes he'd get a clue. It occurred to him that bent up like it still was, his own right arm had gone to sleep and he had no feeling in his right hand, which meant Alex probably had no feeling in his restored left hand, either. Might be a good time to see if Alex could maintain his stoic faade when he caught sight of _that_. 

"There's something I want to show you." 

"If it isn't a bottle of aspirin and a pot of black coffee I'm not interested." 

"I think you will be," Mulder replied, carefully easing their hands out from under his pillow, a task that required the use of his left hand since the other was so thoroughly numb. He straightened their elbows and finally got their arms stretched out between them, inwardly cursing at the almost instant pins-and-needles sensation that earned him. 

"Come on, Alex. Look. It's not a bad thing." 

"Mulder. Whatever it is involves you, aliens, abductions, and alternate realities. How can it be anything _but_ bad?" Alex asked without uncovering his eyes, his lips tightening with what Mulder thought must be the same discomfort he was feeling. 

"I bet you think that's phantom pain," he guessed, and watched Alex flinch again. 

"It wouldn't be the first time," Alex admitted gruffly, and it was Mulder's turn to flinch. Shit, if that prickling, burning feeling was what phantom pain felt like, no wonder Krycek was such an asshole sometimes. 

"Not this time. Not ever again. Please, Alex. Trust me." 

That got a reaction. Alex raised his arm to stare at Mulder's face incredulously. Mulder had time for the fleeting, unhappy realization that Alex found alien abductions and alternate realities less unbelievable than the notion he could be trusted before Alex caught sight of what Mulder wanted him to see. The color drained out of Alex's already pale face and he sucked in a gasping breath that hurt Mulder's chest to hear... then Mulder witnessed something equally unbelievable when tears sprang up to glaze those malachite eyes. 

"Alex?" 

"Is it... real?" The younger man asked in a shattered whisper, staring at their still-joined hands in obvious shock. Mulder tightened his fingers and squeezed carefully. 

"Does it feel real?" He asked, involuntarily moving his free hand to touch that haggard, stubbled face, pleased when Alex let him. Alex's eyes flicked up to meet his, and Mulder thought he could cheerfully drown in the fathomless depths of that wet green gaze. He thumbed away an escaping tear, and on some impulse he didn't pause to analyze, brought Alex's left hand to his mouth to kiss the fingertips gently. "Can you feel that?" 

"God. Oh, God. _Fox_." Alex's fingers twitched into a halting, slightly uncoordinated exploration of his lower lip, and Mulder couldn't prevent a smile. 

"I guess you can," he concluded with no little satisfaction when Alex returned his smile; a beautifully open, unguarded look of pure joy, the likes of which Mulder had never thought to see written there. He understood rather dimly that he could make it his life's ambition to see that expression again and again, then Alex seemed to catch himself with a sigh, smile fading. 

"But it's not real, is it... oh, I don't mean my arm, I mean the situation. Not my reality, not my Fox Mulder. He'd never let me touch him like this," Alex murmured as if talking to himself, voice so sad that Mulder had to fight his own tears. 

"I'm sorry-" Mulder started to say, wanting to explain, apologize, beg Alex's understanding, _something_. Anything to get rid of the resigned, sorrowful acceptance he could see in Alex's eyes. An instant later, Alex's face closed off, skillfully hiding his thoughts. 

Alex shook his head and pressed his fingers firmly to Mulder's mouth, clearly indicating his wish for Mulder to stop talking. 

"It's okay. Listen, I really _do_ want some coffee and aspirin, my head's about to split and so is my bladder, actually. Can you uncuff me now?" 

He said it like he didn't care whether Mulder complied or not, and Mulder was too confused by the sudden return of Alex's expressionless faade to argue. Mulder hadn't figured out what to say, anyway, that would convince Alex that he _was_ the Fox Mulder Alex knew. Doing that would mean confessing the degree to which his feelings for Alex had changed... and Mulder was sure he wasn't ready for that discussion yet. Maybe it was better if Alex thought he was an AU version. Certainly it might make the younger man more approachable. 

Not giving himself any time to analyze that particular train of thought, Mulder twisted around and reached under the mattress to retrieve the handcuff key, then uncuffed them both. He deliberately ignored the small pang that went through him when he released Alex's hand, scooting away to sit on the edge of the bed instead. 

"Bathroom's across the hall," Mulder mumbled, not meeting those opaque green eyes. "I'll get you some clothes. You should know that we're in the home of the Alex Krycek of _this_ reality, and _this_ Alex is married to _this_ Dana Scully." 

He didn't hang around to see how _that_ news was going to be received, yanking on a tee shirt and virtually fleeing the room. 

Coffee and aspirin sounded pretty damned good. 

End Part Two 

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